Fix Me
by K. M. Lane
Summary: Kurt and Blaine find themselves in a sudden relationship, soon realizing it's a fragile one that neither is prepared for - and not ready to let go of.
1. Chapter 1

**A couple notes:**

This fic is based solely off and contains _only _songs from Marianas Trench (both albums _Fix Me_ and _Masterpiece Theatre_). Like Glee, the numbers are either knowingly performed or spontaneous where it's sort of up to interpretation if they're actually being sung or not, if that makes sense.

It begins after the episode "Blame It On The Alcohol" and though it stays true to the show's past, it will not follow its continuity as I write.

This is my first ever fic so I hope you enjoy! Reviews would be incredibly appreciated. (:

* * *

**Preface**

Though the backs of the fingers caressing his cheek were soft like always, this time was infinitely different, because Kurt wasn't melting. He wasn't shamefully liquefying in his hands, messy and winded and starry-eyed.

The stroke left a fissure down his face, and it travelled down his clavicle, his spine, down all sides of his body to the insides of his wrists and the backs of his knees. He could almost hear himself cracking, and he remembered the boxes of chalk on the floor, that beautiful high sounds as it snapped against the blackboard, the white handprints on the backs of their blazers, the dust in those dark curls.

_"I can't tell if I got chalk on your face or not."_

They were all phantoms and skeletons now, plucking tears from Kurt's eyes with bony, skilful hands. It was only a matter of time before Kurt would crumble and be blown away.

* * *

**Chapter I**

It was an understatement to say that Blaine Anderson was confused, but this was not the same dissatisfying feeling he'd felt when questioning his sexuality. Blaine was learning that it was easier to decide things within yourself, _about_ yourself – and though this was very much within him, _every conceivable part of him_, it was not about him. Most frustratingly, the only person he could imagine himself talking to about something like this was none other than the person in question.

And imagining that scenario was almost blood curdling. Nonetheless, he had to speak to him, if about Warbler rehearsal, coffee, the weather – heaven forbid it should come to that. Maybe just hearing his voice would be all he needed. Maybe it would suddenly and surely not be enough.

He rolled over in bed, reaching for his cell phone on the bedside table, and opened a new message. They hadn't spoken in person since making up after their argument in The Lima Bean, which admittedly Blaine was still embarrassed about. Kurt had been completely honourable when apologizing, which had struck Blaine speechless, unable to fathom the strength that lied within the seemingly fragile boy, like coals at the heart of his flaming personality.

The tiny screen was murderously garish in the darkness of Blaine's room, and he took some time to adjust his eyes to it before sitting up and pulling back the curtains, light spilling everywhere. Before typing anything, he checked the time – eight twelve wasn't too early to text someone on a Saturday, was it?

It took him several tries to spell everything correctly with fumbling fingers, as he was feeling more groggy and anxious than he had previously in his life.

_- Hi. Are you busy today? It's been a while._

He was surprised by Kurt's swift reply, but remembered he must have been up early for his skin routine.

_- Plans with Mercedes, actually. Maybe tomorrow?_

Blaine slightly angered himself at considering to not answer, and quickly typed:

_- Sure. Talk to ya tomorrow. Have fun._

He made sure to tack on the last two words. Blaine sunk a little into the bed, sighing. He felt like lying back down and wallowing in his uselessness, when an idea flashed into his mind. It was bright and ugly and he tried to blink it away, but there it was, burned into his eyelids and obnoxiously glowing wherever he placed his eyes.

Two hours later, Blaine found himself parked across the street from the Hudson-Hummel home.

"What am I thinking, what am I thinking," he repeated under his breath, drumming his fingers rapidly on the steering wheel. "What if they don't even know where he is, what am I thinking," After some more tuneless humming, he unbuckled but stopped when his hand closed around the lever.

The last time he'd foolishly acted on his feelings, which he had believed were strong, resulted in absolute disaster and heartbreak. But this was different, wasn't it? He wasn't going to profess anything, and certainly not publicly. He wasn't even sure what he _would_ profess, anyway, which was actually why he wanted to see him now, to figure out exactly how he felt. What he felt.

Though perhaps he was being a little impatient.

He pushed the door open and made his way across the street. Kurt hadn't accompanied him the last two days after rehearsal for coffee, which he had always done so leading up to the fight, and regardless the true nature of Blaine's feelings for him, the boy's frequent absence was impossibly tangible and heavy. Worst of all, Blaine had never felt less like himself the past couple of days.

"Courage, Blaine, _courage_," he muttered stupidly before the door, trying to force-feed himself his own medicine. He breathed in deeply and knocked three times.

Luckily, it was Finn who answered, and Blaine felt his breath rush out of the smile that appeared on his face. According to Kurt, his last presence in his home had been a prickly one for Mr. Hummel.

"Oh hey, Blaine," Finn looked down at the much shorter boy with a friendly smile. "What's up?"

"Just wondering if Kurt was home, is all." he lied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Actually I think he and Mercedes went to the mall, but I don't know when he'll be back."

"Oh perfect, that's fine." Blaine nodded, hoping he didn't look as silly as he felt.

"But I can tell him you stopped by?"

"No, no! I'll talk to him later, it'll be fine. Thanks anyway,"

"Alright, then." he shrugged. "Take care, dude."

"You too, Finn."

They smiled at each other once more, and next thing Blaine was back in his car, driving towards the itch he couldn't see or scratch. Parking wasn't too hard to find since it was still early. Across the lot, through the main doors – he hadn't a clue what kept him moving. It was as none of his pride was actually his, as though he'd fallen into it thoughtlessly like mud and now it was dripping down his body, trailing behind him with each step he took.

Unfortunately, it didn't make him feel any lighter.

Blaine didn't dare walk into any of the stores – despite some fabulous pieces catching his eye now and again – but instead wandered around aimlessly, not sure what he would even say if or when he ran into him. But it only took a couple minutes before the familiar figure materialized at the hall's end.

Kurt stood poised as ever on those indescribable legs of his, evidently absorbed in conversation with Mercedes while rifling through a sales bin outside the video store. From this distance, he couldn't read the emotions on their faces, but hardly cared their topic of discussion. Failing to find anything they wanted, they began to walk away and round the corner.

Slowly following, Blaine couldn`t take his eyes off those legs, and though they walked away, it felt as though they were walking all over him. And though Kurt couldn't know he was there, he never felt more ignored, and desire flooded through him.

_ Can I have your attention, whoa oh, oh oh, oh oh _

_ I just open my mouth, is it clear, is it loud for you?_

_ You just need me to be stable,_

_ But I won't be able_

_ To keep it together again_

_ Now don't pretty please me,_

_ You're not making it easy to slow me down_

_ No wonder I-I-I-I, I-I'm not eating,_

_ I-I-I-I, I-I'm not sleeping,_

_ You say sing sing, to me,_

_ Sing me something I need_

_ Sing new, sing good, _

_ God I wish that I could._

Blaine continued on, quickly turning whenever Kurt happened to look around or stop abruptly, hiding behind racks, plants, people. And though Kurt was completely unaware of his presence, Blaine was now sure of one thing – whether it be for love or lust, just friendship was not enough.

_Are you hearing me now? Whoa oh, oh oh, oh oh_

_ Hear the sad little sounds as they fall from my mouth_

_ Whoa oh oh oh ohhhh yeahhh_

_ All my indecision, all of my excess_

_ Don't you ever tell me I'm not loving you best_

_ I just need a minute, I just need a breath,_

_ You're very hard to drink to my continued success_

_ Do I have your attention? Whoaa-aaaaah_

_ Sing sing to me, sing sing to me,_

_ God I wish that I could, yeah-ah-ah-ahh._

The mud was all gone now, pooling at his ankles and Blaine was stuck. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow he would kick off his shoes and get his feet wet.

* * *

"Hey, Blaine! How was your weekend?" asked Kurt when the other approached him in school on Monday. They began to walk down the crowded corridor.

"Oh you know; same old. How was yours?" he tried to sound normal, glancing sideways to see if Kurt noticed anything wrong in his voice.

"Comparatively good; Mercedes and I went shopping which is always fun albeit to no avail, and then on Sunday—" he suddenly came to a halt both in speech and motion, rounding on his friend. "Oh gosh, Blaine, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot."

His glittery blue eyes were horrified, and Blaine smiled. How could he not dissolve when his friend obviously still cared for him?

"Carole thought we needed some family bonding time and Finn and I weren't allowed our phones for the day, which was sort of fine anyway since mine died." He sighed apologetically. "Oh, are you _sure_ you're not mad? Because we can do something tonight, if you're able."

Blaine broke into a laugh and put his arm around Kurt, forcing them to resume walking. "I'm not mad, but I admit I was a little disappointed. I've … missed you."

Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes, but hurriedly averted them shyly. "Well, I concede I've missed your company as well."

The bell rang and they stopped, contrary to the other students who began to hustle to class.

"Are you up for coffee, tonight, then? I'll buy," offered Kurt, raising his eyebrows enticingly.

"Actually, I was thinking something a little nicer. What do you think about Breadstix? _I'll_ buy."

Kurt furrowed his brows and laughed shortly, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. "What is this, Blaine, a date?"

"Maybe," said Blaine, shrugging and skipping off with a smile, leaving Kurt in excited shock.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?"

"Are you ever going to stop asking me that?"

"I'm sorry," Kurt looked down at the table. "I'm just … a little confused, I guess. I thought we'd agreed to … remain friends."

Blaine felt a little panicky and leaned across. "A-are _you_ sure?"

The other boy's eyes were wide as his lashes bat and he swallowed. "I – uh, yes, of course! I mean, I'm willing to – to take … a few steps forward. If that's what you really want."

Blaine relaxed and fell back into his seat, smiling. Staring. "I'm sure that's what I want."

It was Kurt's turn to feel a shiver down his midriff. Whenever Blaine stared at him like that he felt like he was being pinned down, cut open and operated on.

The rest of their date felt normal, like how they had always hung out previously. Effortless. But somehow there was a different air they were breathing around them. It was sweet, and they sucked it in inconspicuously, but it was hard not to take it all in at once.

At the end of the evening, Blaine pulled his car into the Hummel's driveway, turning down the music they'd been blasting and singing along to. They laughed for a while and slowly grew quiet, breaking eye contact when the sugary air spun thick.

"Do you want to come in for a while?"

Blaine hesitated. "Tonight doesn't seem like a good time,"

Kurt turned to where Blaine was looking, and saw his front door open, a familiar silhouette in the light.

"Ah. Good call."

The darker-haired boy smiled. "Good night, Kurt."

"Good night." He got out of the car, cool air flooding his lungs like water, and watched him drive off. "Hi, dad," he said, walking up to the door. Burt moved aside and let his son in, closing the door behind them.

"So how was it?"

"Fine. We've been out a lot before," he said, trying to maintain an indifferent persona.

"But this was different this time, wasn't it?"

"It was an actual date, yes, dad."

"He uh, he didn't try anything, did he?"

Kurt flushed and began to head upstairs to his room.

"Of course not, dad. This is only the beginning."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes: **

Thanks so much to all of you who decided to bear through the first chapter! Haha. I hope you enjoy this second instalment.

* * *

**Chapter II**

"_So wait, are you guys official, then_?" Mercedes voice was excited through the phone. Kurt stood outside of The Lima Bean, waiting for Blaine to come out of the restroom.

"No, no. At least I don't think so. So far it seems that we're just testing the waters. I think he's still nervous about ruining our relationship."

"_Damn, Kurt, it really sounds like you've bagged the sweetest boy._"

Kurt just sighed in response, and heard Mercedes' laugh on the other end. He became breathless just thinking about Blaine and how they were basically together. _They were dating_, and this time it wasn't all in his head.

"_Don't forget to tease 'im; keep 'im on his toes. Nobody can just get all of Kurt Hummel without workin' for it._"

It was Kurt's turn to laugh, and he ran one hand meticulously through his hair. "That won't be a problem, Mercedes. You know how we do. Oh, I gotta go. He's coming."

"_Alright, see ya, Kurt! Love you._"

"Love you, miss you. Bye." he smiled as he shut his phone, and Blaine approached him.

"That wasn't another boy you've got in line, was it?" he said, taking hold of Kurt's hand and beginning to walk.

Butterflies unleashed themselves within Kurt's stomach at the touch, and he nearly forgot to wittily reply, "Well what can I say – I'm talented, fabulous, well-dressed. They just can't stay away."

"Now when you mention that, I can't blame them."

Kurt flushed and stared ahead, but Blaine bit his lip.

"So to be clear … we're definitely not angry at each other anymore, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"After we made up, I – I got the feeling you were avoiding me. I know it sounds silly, but then you forgot about me on Sunday …"

"I was never angry with you, Blaine. If we're being honest here … I got upset because I was jealous. Rachel is my friend, but there are few things I've gotten before her. Solos, boys." Kurt looked away again. "Because you were gay I thought there was finally something she would never have. Could, I should say."

Kurt felt the hand in his squeeze. "As for avoiding you, I thought you would still want some time alone. I know I said it before, last week, but I wasn't the friend that I should have been. I wasn't the friend you were for me."

"That's not true, Kurt. I should have seen it. But as we both know now I'm not very observant." he laughed in embarrassment.

"It's not a bad thing. I could make a bunch of basic signs of my thoughts to hold up if you're ever confused." Kurt winked.

"Haha, sounds like a perfect idea."

A car driving up towards them rolled their windows down as it slowed.

"_FAGS_!" they shouted, and from the back seat an arm holding a large slushie came out the window, splattering Blaine full on the face before speeding off, laughter dripping behind them.

* * *

"You know, for something that tastes so sweet, it stings like crazy." said Blaine, blinking forcefully as Kurt wiped away the red stickiness from behind Blaine's ear with a moist towelette. They sat at Kurt's vanity in his bedroom, certainly to the knowledge of Burt.

"Lucky you keep those things in your bag; I don't think I'd still have eyes if you didn't clean them right away. I can _still _feel the burn." he said humourously.

"Lucky? Blaine, we were just depreciated in public. You were slushied. I wouldn't exactly call that 'lucky'."

"Hey, Kurt, I'm just trying to lighten the mood. If those guys have a problem with two guys holding hands, then that's _their_ problem. And I consider us very _lucky _to not be close-minded to love."

Like always, Kurt's heart lurched at the word. "Well that's a given, Blaine, we're _gay_," he said obviously.

"But we aren't bothered or disgusted by heterosexuality. It doesn't matter what any of us are, the point is that we should accept each other regardless."

The words settled into Kurt, and he found himself awed again by Blaine's ability to realize things so open-mindedly.

"Well, I think we're all sufficiently cleaned here. The shower's across the hall so you can wash out your hair, which I may say, manages to look fabulous even with the … extra product. And I can lend you a shirt."

Blaine chuckled shyly, sneaking a look at his hair in the mirror as Kurt got up to pull a simple, white graphic tee from his closet, in the corner of which Blaine noticed an acoustic guitar.

"Is that yours?" he asked, pointing to it.

Kurt took on a smug expression. "I may have 'borrowed' it from Finn, who _shouldn't_ have been allowed to borrow it from Puckerman. Family consensus that the boy should stick to drums. Anyway, here you are. I realize you're not picky on fashion and regrettably this is the most casual thing I have."

Blaine took the shirt, smiling at the design, which was a female face with big lashes and lips. "It's not a big deal."

"Towels are in the closet in the bathroom."

"Thanks," he said, disappearing.

Shortly after the water started running, Burt appeared in Kurt's doorway. Seeing his son reading a fashion magazine alone, relief relaxed the muscles in his face.

"Just, uh, checking up on you." he said.

Kurt closed his read and closed his eyes in chagrin. "Dad, _please_ tell me you didn't come up here to make sure I wasn't in the shower with Blaine."

"I'm your father, Kurt, and it's my job to make sure you're … safe."

The boy nearly blurted _Oh god_, but managed to keep it in. "We've had this discussion already, and I promised you that I would … follow your rules, and be appropriate. I guess I just wish you would have a little more faith in me."

Burt sighed and nodded. "Alright, you're right, Kurt. I apologize. You're a good boy, you know that."

"Thank you, dad."

"And uh, tell Blaine he can stay for dinner. Now that you two are spending more – _special_ – time together Carole thinks it's a good idea we get to know this boy."

Kurt's eyes lit up, and he sat a little straighter. Burt smiled briefly and left. _I'm going to have to lend Blaine a better shirt_, he thought.

About ten minutes later Blaine emerged from the bathroom, towel around his neck. Closing the door behind him he walked into the bedroom; Kurt got up to take the towel and hang it over the vanity chair.

"You're invited to dinner," he said nonchalantly. "Carole and my dad would love to have you."

"Really? Wait, should I be concerned?"

"No, I talked to my dad about … There's nothing to worry about, no. I can give you a sweater to put over that, though," he added, glancing at the tee. It was thin, and clung to Blaine's body where it hadn't been fully dried, wet and transparent. His breaths became shallow.

They were quiet, and Blaine moved in closer so that Kurt could see water droplets forming at the ends of the other's curls, some slowly trickling down the sides of his face; so that he could feel the shower's heat steaming against his own skin.

"Can I try something?" whispered Blaine, head tilting. It sounded so innocent, and his father's warning just minutes before flew from his mind.

Kurt's lips were already parted slightly, and he nodded almost inconceivably, breath coming to a full arrest. His eyes stared at Blaine's lips, red from the shower as they came impossibly closer, until finally they touched his own.

It was easy and yet so difficult to return equal, which was sheer, pressure, as he revelled in the gentleness but craved the passion he felt stirring underneath. They parted just as tenderly, just as slowly, taking longer than the time their lips spent together.

Kurt quietly took in a needed breath, sweeping his blue eyes over the hazel ones – they only blinked.

Falling, Kurt's stomach was falling down, down, down.

"You … you didn't feel anything, did you?" he barely audibly contrived through inert lips.

The other's face was ashamed. Kurt was suddenly breathless again. Pain laced itself throughout his body and tightened, knotting itself in his chest. He moved away.

"Oh god, Kurt, please believe me. I wanted so much for this to be special."

Air sucked back into his lungs and he smiled apologetically. "Yes, well. We can't always get what we want, can we?" he said, mostly to himself.

"This is all my fault. I thought – I thought –" he groaned, sighed, and collapsed onto the bed. "I'm so sorry."

Though Kurt was devastated, and he felt tears threatening to appear, he sat gingerly beside his friend and said, "Don't torture yourself. Everyone makes mistakes."

"You're not a mistake, Kurt." Blaine bore assuredly into the other's eyes. "It's me, I know it. I just have to fix me."

"No. It's probably just us." he said quickly, trying to comfort him. "And you can't fix something if it's not broken. And nothing can break if it wasn't together in the first place." Kurt was surprising himself with the control he was displaying, reigning in his emotions and tears.

"I know I could love you."

Kurt felt his heart leap into his throat and he quickly swallowed it down. No need to get hasty; especially after the tremendously disappointing denouement of their first kiss.

"It probably just proves what good friends we are," he said, gently nudging Blaine.

"Do you feel that way?"

"I will."

Blaine placed his hand on Kurt's thigh. It felt right, it felt good, like the kiss had. Maybe love didn't have to be all explosions and excitingly dangerous passion right away. Maybe love could start out safe and subtle – you had to build the bomb perfectly before it could detonate.

"I'm not giving up on this. We both probably should have seen that I'd screw this up, but I'm too far in to back out now. And I just couldn't do that to you."

"I appreciate that, Blaine, but – where are you going?"

He suddenly stood and walked towards the closet. Kurt was even more confused when he saw him pick up the guitar and resume his seat. As he began strumming, Kurt's eyes attached themselves to the curved fingers, mesmerized as he played.

"Remember I told you song always helps me," he said, staring into the instrument. Then he began to sing:

_Everyone's around, no words are coming out,_

_ And I can't find my breath, can we just say the rest with no sound?_

"Blaine—"

But he just continued on with a small smile, not taking his eyes off Kurt, who wondered if his family downstairs could hear.

_ And I know this isn't enough, I still don't measure up,_

_ And I'm not prepared, sorry is never there when you need it._

_ And I do want you to know I'll hold you up above everyone._

_ And I do want you to know I think_

_ You'd be good to me_

_ And I'd be so good to you._

_I would._

Kurt's mouth was dry. Could this be okay? Would it be? He licked his lips to take up the next part as Blaine patiently strummed.

_ Thought I saw a sign, somewhere between the lines_

_ But maybe it's me, maybe I only see what I want._

_ And I still have your letter, just got caught between _

_ Someone I just invented, who I really am and who_

_ I've become._

And Blaine joined in, their voices harmonizing wonderfully as they always did:

_ And I do want you know I hold you up above everyone.  
And I do want you know I think you'd be good to me  
And I'd be so good to you.  
Woahh  
You bring me higher.  
Yeah.  
I would. _

_ And I do want you know I hold you up above everyone.  
And I do want you know I think you'd be good to me  
And I'd be so good to you.  
I'd be good to you,  
I'd be good to you,  
I'd be good to you..._

At the end, Blaine sang one final line, a capella.

"I'd be _so_ good to you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes:** Hello! The third chapter is here. I realize I've been posting them fairly quickly, thanks to the weekend. The fourth instalment shall take a little more time to get up, just a heads up.

I've edited the song to make it PG to be safe. I hope you enjoy :)

* * *

**Chapter III**

Kurt and Blaine walked into their last period history class. It had been two weeks since the very odd events up in Kurt's bedroom happened, and since then they'd done nothing but hold hands and occasionally hug. Thankfully, Burt had been rather impressed by Blaine during dinner that he'd been invited again that Friday, much to the delight of Carole.

On the surface, things seemed to be going well: their fellow Warblers had noticed the shift in their relationship and offered their congratulations; Rachel and Mercedes had another sleepover with Kurt to learn all about the details of how it started and if they'd kissed (he held back the truth of the aftermath here, but included the duet). Finn even accepted his warm milk and told him how happy he was for his brother.

But on the inside, Kurt wasn't so sure of where they stood. Actually, he did know – romance limbo.

"I'm really starting to dislike this class," Blaine grumbled as he sat down next to Kurt.

"And by class you mean Mr. Barker?" Kurt raised an eyebrow and Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Notice how he's always_ more _awkward when teaching us about historical figures' mistresses and Renaissance art? And since this is an all boys school he never really has to deal with couple things. I think he knows about us."

"I haven't seen a ring on his hand. Perhaps he's sexually frustrated," said Kurt, and they snickered until said man strode into the room.

Halfway through the period, a folded sheet of paper found itself on the corner of Kurt's desk.

_You'll have to come over tonight,_ it said.

He looked to Blaine and mouthed "_Why_?"

Taking back the paper, he scribbled again.

_To help me study. I haven't been paying attention._

_I thought you were better than that_, Kurt wrote back in jest.

_I can't help how cute you look today._

Kurt nearly snorted aloud. _Okay, that was corny._

_So will you come over? I promise we won't just study._

At this, Kurt raised an eyebrow ridiculously high.

_Who says we'll have time for anything else? Now I'm not paying attention either._

_Are you calling me cute?_

"Boys!"

They instantly snapped their heads upwards, hearts fluttering and laughter caught in their throats. Mr. Barker walked down their isle and gave them a stern look, extending his arm to motion for the paper. Nervously, Kurt placed it in the man's hand. Colour came to his face as he read it over, but he stared at the two of them firmly and said "Detention after class," before pocketing the note and resuming his lesson.

Kurt shot a worried look to Blaine, who mirrored it before they both smiled sheepishly.

The end of the day did not hurry to arrive. Mr. Barker led them to the janitor's closet and, giving a bucket and rag to each, informed that they were to clean every blackboard on that side of the hallway and clap all the brushes.

"I won't stand for that sort of indiscretion in my classrooms. I sincerely hope you learn your lesson, boys. I'll come back later to check on you."

As he drew out of earshot, Kurt said, "He thinks _that_'s indiscretion? He should have seen the assemblies New Directions performed back at McKinley. _Sex riots_ ensued both times. What?"

Blaine was giving Kurt a bewildered and amused expression. Kurt pushed his bucket into him and began to walk away, hands clasped behind his back.

"Where're you going?" called the boy with now two buckets in his arms.

"Come on, Blaine, as the most talented candidate for stardom in this school you can't really expect me to go through with this. Oh, crap."

Blaine had begun to chase after Kurt, who ran into a classroom, causing Blaine to lose focus as he stared at the boy's flawless legs in motion. "You're not getting away with this!"

They spent the next half hour clapping brushes and standing on chairs (for neither could reach) to wipe the top of the boards. They sang while serving their punishment, and the time passed impossibly quickly.

In their final room, Kurt opened the brand new box of chalk that sat on the ledge, and began to write his and Blaine's name on the board, encasing it in a large heart.

"Isn't that a little corny?" Blaine teased.

"Well I can't help it you're so cute."

Blaine picked up the box of chalk to take a piece, when the entire box disassembled and all the chalk came crashing to the floor, momentarily leaving a cloud of dust.

Kurt's jaw dropped and he giggled. "Oh _Blaine_,"

"It's not funny!" he insisted, looking hysterical, causing Kurt to laugh harder.

"There's nothing to worry about. We'll clean it up, it'll all be fine. Not all of them broke, actually. We lucked out."

Blaine kneeled down to closer inspect the damage, picking up all the whole pieces and resting them carefully on the ledge. "I like them when they're perfect like this. Smooth and new." He smiled, and so did Kurt.

"It is a nice, small thing to take pleasure in."

"Sometimes I _want_ to break them. It's like they're asking to be disturbed, you know? Like a blank sheet of paper or fresh snow. It's beautiful, and you want to stir it up. Like fitting yourself into the beauty."

Kurt leaned over and took a piece of chalk from the undamaged pile, took a few steps back, and chucked it at the blackboard. It snapped in two with a sharp sound, the remains clacking onto the floor.

He held his hand out in a "be my guest" gesture. Blaine looked into the boy's dancing eyes and retrieved a piece, gliding his fingertips over the sleek surface. And then it was out of his hands, in pieces on the floor.

"How did it feel?"

"Good,"

Soon the ledge was empty and the room was filled with chalk fragments and laughter.

"Is it sad that this is the craziest thing I've done in this school, apart from during Warbler rehearsal?"

"Positively dismal," said Kurt, closing the gap between them. "Back at McKinley some of us ambushed the library once with MC Hammer. And somehow we _didn't _get in trouble."

Blaine chuckled and raised his hand to touch Kurt's face. He giggled.

"What?" the pale boy asked, self-conscious. "Is there something on my face?"

"That's it; I don't know. I can't tell if I got chalk on your face or not."

"I happen to like my skin tone," he said a little defensively.

"So do I."

Kurt's blue eyes shimmered in the light coming from the windows, and the next thing Blaine knew he was pressed into him, and he didn't know anything else.

The shorter pulled the taller further into him as they kissed; hands snaked up to tangle themselves in dark curls; satin lips warmed against each other as they played tug-o-war.

Too soon, they both surrendered, breathless and hot, arms still wrapped around one another.

"That wasn't just friendly … was it?" the words tumbled quietly from Kurt's mouth like gravel, but he was thankful they weren't _I love you_.

Blaine's lips rejoined and he shook his head. "No," he whispered.

There was a loud throat clearing and they parted like oil and water. From the doorway, Mr. Barker addressed the boys without meeting their eyes, which was difficult as the white handprints contrasting against the navy of their blazers was equally discomforting.

"Just, uh, clean this up. And … and you can leave. Next time I'm calling your parents." he said, making a hasty departure.

"We're going to have to study _extremely_ hard now," said Blaine, and they cracked up, hearts still beating wildly.

* * *

"Blaine, you do realize that what you're considering is suspension-worthy."

"Warbler suicide! No one performs alone."

"Yes, yes, I know. And I'm not asking you to risk this with me, I just need your help with the intercom. If, and probably when, consequences are delivered, I will take the fall for everything. None of you were involved."

"But why must this be done?" asked Wes.

"I just need to impress Kurt," he said warmly. He didn't want to mention that it felt like Kurt was still keeping his distance despite their last kiss. Blaine, too, wanted to try and take things slower, but that sunny afternoon something had clouded his head – he prayed it was love and not just dust.

David softened his expression. "You would probably find a way to do it on your own even if we declined, I gather. I'm in."

Wes nodded. "As am I."

* * *

"It was unlike anything. For being inexperienced, the boy is certainly able, I'll tell you that." Kurt gushed to Mercedes. It had been a while since he'd called her, and seeing how Blaine was late to lunch he decided to ring her up and exchange latest news.

"_Sounds like things are moving a little fast,_" he heard the amusement in her voice.

"Not really, no. It was just that once. Teaser, remember? I'm trying to get it across that I'm not all about physicality." he replied, mentally adding _And I'm still worried he might need more space than he realizes._

"_We really need to all get together again soon._"

"I concur. I'm sure there's more than one guy in the Warblers that would appreciate your outstanding talent and panache. We could double date."

Suddenly an extremely loud electric guitar intro began to pump into the cafeteria from the speakers in the corners. Every boy in the room looked around questioningly, some jumping out of their seats in alarm.

"_Kurt? What's that music, what's going on_?"

Stunned as everyone else, Kurt couldn't hear Mercedes voice over the music, and he looked around as the others did. Blaine appeared at the cafeteria doors, sliding into the room, and with wide eyes Kurt absentmindedly closed his phone.

Their eyes met. Blaine's voice projected itself across the room to where Kurt sat alone.

_Don't patronize, I realize, I'm losing and this is my real life_

_I'm half asleep, and I am wide awake_

_This habit is always so hard to break_

_I don't wanna be the bad guy_

_I've been blaming myself and I think you know why_

_I'm killing time, and time's killing you_

_Every way that I do_

"Oh my god," Kurt breathed, suddenly realizing there were about six hundred pairs of eyes on him. Leaping onto a couple tables in the process, he slowly made his way closer to Kurt throughout the song.

_Did you say 'please just follow me'?_

_I thought you wanted me_

'_Cause I can't stay with someone else_

_I'll try to suck it up, I just can't suck it up_

_Make me feel like someone else_

_I'm under the gun, feel like the only one,_

_I just can't decide what I'm running from_

_This isn't what I wanted but_

_I can't keep my filthy freaking mouth shut_

_It's not enough, it's never enough_

_And I wish I could breathe without getting it stuck_

_Can't focus it, but I'm trying_

_Over and over again._

Finally reaching his thoroughly embarrassed target, Blaine danced charmingly to the pop rock music, and Kurt couldn't help but smile and admire his wondrous skills.

_Did you say 'please just follow me'?  
I thought you wanted me  
'Cause I can't stay with someone else  
I'll try and suck it up, I just keep messing up  
I want you all to myself_

_Did you say 'please just follow me'?  
I thought you wanted me  
'Cause I want you all to myself  
I can try and suck it up, I just can't suck it up  
Make me feel like someone else._

_Na na—_

The music abruptly cut. Blaine stopped, staring breathlessly at Kurt. All eyes were on them, but it did not remain quiet for long, as applause erupted throughout the cafeteria, accompanied by whistles and shouts of encouragement.

Suddenly, from the entrance, one voice rose above them all – the dean's. "Who here hijacked the intercom?"

He did not sound angry, but the Dalton boys were not ones to be so easily mislead. The commotion died instantly.

Blaine winked at Kurt's terrified expression and spun around to proudly face his fate. "I did, sir. Blaine Anderson."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes:** Hello! I aplogize for the wait for this chapter; it wasn't an easy one to write. I'm on spring break now so hopefully I get at least two more chapters completed this week.

If you're curious about Ray, I can link you to what I think he looks like. Just ask box me via tumblr (the link is on my profile).

I hope you enjoy it (:

* * *

**Chapter IV**

Being a Friday afternoon The Lima bean was incredibly busy, and as Kurt sat alone quietly amidst the chatter, he couldn't help but notice that everything seemed busy. The past months whirled by him on the people darting in and out, on the cars rushing by the window, there were so many images: bruises on the backs of his shoulders, nightmares of forced kisses, dreams of running away and never looking back, clothing stores, coffee, alcohol, his bed, washed kisses, dirty kisses. Then there were things not tangible: misread signals, doubtful feelings, sudden feelings, bad feelings, new feelings.

Everything was impatient to happen. He needed a breath. He closed his eyes.

"Kurt!"

So much for peace; but what did he expect, when what he'd been expecting was Rachel Berry?

He opened his eyes to the bright, excited face of his friend and rival. Towering over her a good foot and a half to her left was a boy with a kind face and slightly overgrown hair, chocolate brown with caramel highlights. _Dye job, _Kurt instantly determined. He had a trim figure and wore a leather jacket over a white collared shirt and dark skinny jeans.

"Kurt, I'd like you to meet Ralph Fletcher, the newest member of New Directions."

"But you can call me Ray,"

"Ah – hi," he quickly stood to shake the boy's hand, struggling to keep his surprise off his face. What was going on? New Directions? Who was this guy?

"You're exactly like Rachel described," he said, laughing affably.

"Rachel, what exactly did you tell him?" Kurt said accusatorily.

"Well, I'll let you two talk!" she gave Kurt a deliberate look, tilting her head towards Ray as she backed away quickly, and then she was gone.

"I take it you weren't expecting me?" Ray gave an awkward laugh.

"Not at all. Though I should have expected something was up; her tone had been rather questionable when she called me yesterday. Shall we?" he motioned to the empty chairs and they sat.

"So you're in New Directions now?" Jealously crept slyly into Kurt's stomach and then there were more images: classic eighties numbers, Gaga costumes, football, cheerleaders, Vitamin D, assemblies, Mr. Schue, the choir room. Family.

"Mhm. I'm not the best singer but I play guitar. And I know I don't look it but I'm actually a hell of a dancer."

Kurt took in Ray's spindly frame and decided he'd have to see it for himself. "Well, New Directions can always use new members. I'm sure you're a great addition."

"Thanks."

There was an awkward pause.

"I'm confused," Kurt admitted. "What exactly are we doing here?"

"Rachel didn't tell you anything at all?"

Kurt shook his head, and Ralph loudly inhaled and exhaled.

"I guess I'll start from the beginning. I moved here two weeks ago from Canada—"

"—wait, people move _into_ Lima?"

"Actually we moved _underneath_ it. Little cosier, y'know?"

Kurt rolled his eyes jokingly and Ray laughed at himself once, then shook his head. "Anyway, my grandfather passed away last month and my grandma needs taken care of so we came here."

"Forgive me; I'm so sorry for your loss."

"It's alright; I really didn't know him all too well. Anyway … high school in Canada isn't like high school here. We don't have huge cliques or obvious labels and ranks of social standing, not that those things aren't there, 'cause they are." he paused, and his attitude differed when he spoke again.

"I'm not used to feeling so … alone. I mean kids aren't nice wherever you go, but I'm not used to being bullied. I've never even seen kids get pushed around before. Back home mostly everyone kept to themselves, and I hated feeling like I was ignored … but now I see there are worse things."

"Being in glee club's not exactly the best cure for that,"

"I'm not so sure this has to do with glee club," Ray pursed his lips in confession.

"I'm not sure I'm following you,"

"I'm bisexual,"

"Oh." That explained the hair and the masculine chic attire.

"Rachel came up to me, noticing something was wrong. I told her I just needed someone to talk to, and she told me about you."

Kurt swallowed. "I don't think I'm really the best person to talk to. I mean, I left because it wasn't safe for me to be there. So if you plan on staying, my advice isn't exactly … in existence."

"I'm not really looking for advice, just … someone who understands."

They locked eyes, and seeing sadness in the warm green ones, Kurt agreed that he understood. It was all too familiar a look.

Suddenly Blaine flooded into his mind, and he absentmindedly smiled.

"You can always talk to me," he said, realizing it had never felt better to say those words.

"Thanks, Kurt. Rachel told me you were amazing."

Kurt felt himself blush, but said in mock pride, "That's all she told you?"

Ray laughed. It was beautiful.

"Can I buy you coffee?" asked Kurt.

"You don't have to—"

"—no, please. I do."

When they each had scorching cups between their hands, the fact that they had just met seemed to melt away a little.

"Is it Karofsky?" Kurt finally asked, and though he was certain of the answer, he still didn't want to hear it.

"Him and Azimio, yeah. Finn also told me what happened to you. He's being rather protective, actually." Ray smiled, seeming to be remembering something.

"Finn's a really good guy," said Kurt, smiling as well. Like moths to a flame, more images flew to him, brushed their wings against his heart: his brother in a cherry red shower curtain, a rather stirring toast, an unexpected dance. "Not so good at talking though, that one. He never tells me anything."

"Are _you_ alright?"

"Huh? Yeah," Kurt was thrown off. "I'm fine," he nodded.

"You seem like you have a lot on your mind."

Someone opened the door to leave, and cool air enveloped them like scarves.

"I'm fine, really. Actually, I just remembered I have to go meet someone else." he said, standing up.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," Ray stood as well, worry on his face.

"You didn't. It's just—you seem nice and I know how it feels to be in your position. But I don't really know you. I do have a lot on my mind and I think that I just need some time alone to work it out … for a while."

"That's no problem, Kurt. But if _you _ever need to talk, I'm all ears."

Kurt smiled. "I really appreciate that, thank you." He meant it, but vaguely wondered why everyone always offered to be "all ears". Why didn't anyone ever offer to be all heart?

They said goodbye, promising to meet again soon. Kurt glanced at his phone—it was only about four thirty. He had promised to drop by Blaine's house to give him the assignments he'd missed that day, due to the suspension awarded for his unauthorized performance in the cafeteria. At least the punishment was only for one day, and the Warblers were too amused by Blaine's declaration of affections to be mad.

* * *

It was unbelievable to Kurt why Blaine had pulled the stunt. They sat in Blaine's bedroom, text and notebooks open all over the desk and bed as Blaine got caught up and they furiously reviewed their history notes.

"The other day you kept mentioning how wild things were at your old school and it just sounded like so much fun. I just wanted to show you that I could be like that, too. Though perhaps Dalton wasn't the best place, as clarified. Truth is … _you're_ the courageous one, Kurt._ I_ look up to _you_. You make me realize that I need to be more adventurous. More everything."

"Blaine…" Kurt looked away out of shyness. "You … are enough. Just as you."

"Don't be modest, Kurt. You must see what a wonderful person you are. I know I haven't been quite vocal lately about my feelings, and that's mostly because, well … I haven't been quite sure of them myself."

The tension Kurt had been feeling all day was gradually thinning.

"I think I know what you mean. I haven't been very open, either." he paused, took a deep breath. "I've been thinking a lot about McKinley, more than I realized. Apparently, you've noticed too." Another breath.

"Today I … met someone."

Kurt looked hesitantly at Blaine, but he only waited without judgement.

"He just joined New Directions, his name is Ray, and … he's being tormented by Karofsky because he's bisexual. I know my dad and Carole won't be too happy but … I'm thinking about transferring back." he rushed.

"What?" was all Blaine had the coherency to say.

"I know it's sudden, but I feel so lost lately. Who knows, maybe I am being a little rash but it feels like what I have to do."

"You got upset when I thought I might have been bisexual, and now you're chasing after some guy who is?"

"I'm not chasing after him, Blaine!" Kurt stood from the desk, Blaine from the bed. "I'm going there to support him, just like you did for me. To stand up to Karofsky to show that he can't get away with this again. It's not just about me anymore."

Blaine was silenced. He felt unclean.

"I don't even understand why you would make that assumption – it's not like you helped me because you were in love with me."

Tears clouded Blaine's eyes and his chest tightened. "But I love you now."

Was there a point in saying it? It was too late now; truth had finally retched itself from his body, while Kurt lost all feel of his.

"You love me?" he breathed. Months of ache stood packed and ready at the door – all Blaine had to do was say he never wanted to see that again.

Blaine chuckled sadly, eyes bouncing around the room until they landed on Kurt. "Another thing that was supposed to be special." Cautiously, he stepped towards the beautiful, impossibly perfect boy before him. "But yes, Kurt Hummel. I am in love with you."

The ache forgot to close the door as it left, and a chill rippled down Kurt's back, but it felt anything but bad. His tongue wrestled with the "L" word and the latter was winning. As Blaine moved closer, Kurt fought it harder.

"I'm sorry we're not on a blanket under the moonlight and there aren't rose petals, because you deserve that. Most all I'm sorry I doubted you. I trust you, I do. And I think you doing that is really great, and I think you _should_ go back and do it. I'm sorry that jealousy overcame me first. I guess I just read it as you accepting a part of him that you previously wanted to reject in me."

They were extremely close now, feeble inches between them. Kurt merely stared at him, struggling for his voice.

"Now would be a good time to say something," said Blaine, broken and uncertainly.

Kurt found his tongue, and feeling shot back into his fingertips. "I'm in love with you."

Evidently, Blaine had not been expecting this response, and he leaned back as if he'd been shocked. Then the corners of his lips pulled upwards the tiniest bit.

Kurt couldn't handle all of the emotions in Blaine's eyes: they flickered, they smouldered, they burned all kinds of fire and hurt and happiness. He swallowed noiselessly and looked to the floor.

Fingers softly intertwined themselves into his and then their chests were touching and their arms were holding and their hearts were beating on each other. It would be a bruise worth having.

"So you really are leaving?" whispered Blaine, tickling Kurt's ear.

"I hope so." He pulled away, keeping their embrace and stared at him surely. "But I won't be leaving you."

Though in his arms, Kurt felt miles away from Blaine. Despite his last statement, deep down, Blaine felt like he was losing Kurt inch by inch, and if he let go, what would he hold on to? Why did they feel like puzzle pieces originally made for each other, but they just couldn't fit because one of them had been mutated? He tried to bury the feelings.

"Do you think you could … stay the night?" he asked tentatively. "My parents won't be home until about midnight and they have to leave early in the morning so they won't know you're here. Your car's parked across the street, isn't it?"

"It is." Kurt nodded tersely. They had slept in the same bed before. They had slept in the same bed before.

They had slept in the same bed before.

"It'll just be like last time. I'm not trying to pressure you at all, Kurt. I just don't want to be alone tonight. Please don't feel obligated."

He wanted to; he wanted to show Blaine he needed him, that _he_ could be the one to be there and provide comfort. He wanted Blaine to need _him._

"I'm sure I could find a way to convince my dad that it will be alright."

* * *

"It's just that we have a big test on Monday for a teacher who's not particularly fond of us, and we would end up studying tomorrow too, anyway. Yes, dad, there's a guest bedroom. I'll be home before dinner tomorrow. Actually dad, there's something I want to talk to you about tomorrow. No, it can wait. _No, it's nothing like_ _that_! Yes, I promise. Bye, dad. I love you too. Bye."

Kurt shut down his phone and placed it on the desk, closing his eyes in mortification while Blaine sniggered affectionately from the bed, now clear of all schoolwork. Later, as Kurt crawled in wearing lent pyjamas, he vaguely realized that he was sleeping in the same bed as Blaine for the second time, yet still didn't know the feel of the other's tongue against his. He flushed, and though the light was dim there came a question.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," said Kurt, but felt himself get hotter, and almost squeamish, as he looked at Blaine's lips.

They curved upwards and he scooted slightly closer to Kurt, but didn't touch him. In silence they lied for a while; Kurt's head rolled away from Blaine, who, at a leisured tempo, began to sing, soft as a whisper.

_Please sing to me,  
I can see you open up to breathe.  
Fast words make it easier on me,  
Make a point to never disappoint you,  
Somebody's got to tell me what to do.  
Just wish you could've seen me, when it used to come so easy.  
I like to say that it's easy to stay but it's not for me,  
'Cause I'm barely here at all._

The tone of his voice was sober, and it hardly sounded like the original song, but it was beautiful. Kurt pushed himself back so he was lying against Blaine and closed his eyes as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

_Slow down now, the secrets out,  
And I swear now everything is perfect.  
What you want, what you need has been killing me.  
Try to be everything that you want me to be.  
I say yes, I'll undress, I've done more for less.  
And I'll change everything until it's perfect again._

And they drifted off.


End file.
